


Song in a Seashell

by sammy431



Series: Sammy's Summer Sizzle Fics [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fate, Fluff, I Dont Really Know How This Happened, Olicity Summer Sizzle, kind of a Soulmate AU, seashell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 09:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammy431/pseuds/sammy431
Summary: It had been during that first year on Lian Yu - during the time Oliver Queen’s will to live had taken the harshest beating. He had been walking alone along the beach when he’d seen it.A seashell. A seashell that would become his light in the darkness in ways he could never have imagined.





	Song in a Seashell

**Author's Note:**

> So I honestly don’t know why my brain looked the prompt ‘seashell’ and came up with this, but I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to @ernbrella1 for their help with a quick beta read. 
> 
> Title is a Tom T. Hall song.

Oliver was well aware that he was bumbling his way through this meeting. Felicity Smoak’s eyes looked up at him along with a reproving face, as if to ask if that was the best he could do. A spilled latte, really? 

The very last thing Oliver had been expecting when he came to Queen Consolidated that day was to hear the voice that had kept him sane in the five years he had been gone. 

It had been in the first year - during the time Oliver’s will to live had taken the harshest beating - and he’d been walking alone along the beach when he’d seen it. 

A seashell. 

The beaches of Lian Yu did not have seashells. Especially not large conch shells that were soft red in color. It had been the color that had caught Oliver’s eye in the first place, a splash of bright against the grey and brown of the land. 

He still wasn’t sure what had possessed him to cross the beach to grab the shell. He was even less sure what caused him to raise the shell to his ear to hear the ocean, like he had on one of the few beach trips he’d been on with Thea.

Whatever it had been, it had saved his life. 

Instead of hearing the wind and his own heartbeat echoed back at him, he heard a soft female voice. 

Oliver had dropped the shell in surprise, instantly regretting it when it landed with a loud bang on the rocky shore. He had stared at it in shock for a moment, and considered if he really had lost his mind. 

But he’d picked it back up. 

This time he had been prepared. It wasn’t a voice he recognized, but it was soft and soothing, mumbling something he at first thought had been a foreign language. It had taken him a moment to realize that the person was working out some kind of math problem, jumping from number to number at such a fast pace that Oliver had trouble making out each individual word. 

He kept the shell close to him for the next four and a half years. Slade and Shado had mocked him for it, Waller had noticed his attachment to it and used it as leverage. He had hidden it during his time in the Bratva, knowing his ability to stay alive meant hardening the shell around his heart. But he always knew where it was, and would hold it in his hands even if he never allowed himself to hear her voice during that year. 

No one else ever seemed to hear anything. 

Over the years he had listened as the young woman - Felicity, he’d eventually figured out, as she talked to herself - as she worked her way through what seemed like a highly accelerated college program, began and ended a relationship with some jackass named Cooper, suffered through heartbreak and her mother’s overbearing ways, and began working in IT. 

She wasn’t always around when he picked up the shell, and Oliver despaired at missed opportunities to hear her voice. Whether it was some bit of computer software explained at the speed of light, complaints about her coworkers, idle musings about pop culture, Oliver craved it. He didn’t know what exactly he was hearing or how, but it didn’t matter. He needed it. 

It should have been the first signs of insanity, but instead it kept him human even on his darkest days. Even when he returned home, the small red shell was his connection to reality. It meant safety and comfort and luck. He continued to keep it close, having it in his car or bag whenever he wasn’t at home. 

Even when he was The Hood. 

John had raised an eyebrow when he’d first noticed the shell sitting on a desk near his bow, but had shrugged off Oliver’s hurried explanation of it being a good luck talisman from the island. 

It had become such a staple in his life, to be confronted with the voice’s owner had thrown him off his game. He managed to fumble his way through getting the information, and wandered around the rest of the day in a haze. 

It wasn’t until he had suited up and was about to leave that he hesitated. It had become a habit to listen for Felicity’s voice before heading out on the streets for the night, but now. Now things could be different. He knew who it was. 

He studied the shell for a moment, as if the knowledge would change its appearance. The shell was red, like the pen she had been chewing on. 

He picked it up and held it to his ear, eyes closing on instinct. 

“I don’t know why I helped him. Who walks into the IT Department with a bullet riddled laptop and expects no questions? I mean, obviously Oliver Queen does. And I just - I helped him! I don’t even know why he had the laptop or why he needed the information, and I just gave it to him. How many laws did I break? How many am I an accessory to breaking? Argh, his stupid charming smile. I should have just lied and said the laptop was too damaged, but no.” 

She was talking about him. 

She called him charming. 

He didn’t realize he was grinning like a moron until he met up with John a short while later and was met with a raised eyebrow and a “You want to share why you look like the cat that got the canary, or should I not ask?”

Oliver shook his head, pulling his hood up and forcing himself to focus on the mission at hand and not on how beautiful Felicity looked in the soft afternoon light, completely focused on her task. 

He tried to stay away. 

In retrospect, he did not try very hard. 

He returned just a few weeks later for more computer help. He remembered none of what was said, to overwhelmed to be sitting so close to the source of the voice that had kept him alive for so many years, too entranced by the way her glasses fell down the slope of her nose, by the way she looked at him through her eyelashes while focused on her tablet. 

In retrospect, he was fucked. 

But still, he tried to keep his distance. He knew so much about this young woman, so many of her desires whispered through the shell. He knew how hard she worked and the good she wanted to do. 

He wasn’t worthy of her. 

The next time he visited her, as the shadows began to grow longer and the sky turned orange, he paused before her and just. Took a moment to stare. To drink in everything about her, from her small industrial piercing, her bright pink lipstick, the furrow in her brow as she studied her tablet. 

“Felicity?” 

She jumped in her seat, pulling the tablet close to her chest. “Don’t you knock?” 

“It’s the IT Department, not the ladies room.” Oliver smirked as Felicity tried to gather whatever thoughts he had accidentally scrambled. She gave him a location for the source of the black arrow within seconds, and he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out “You are remarkable.”

“Thank you for remarking on it.” A soft blush colored her cheeks, eyes shining up at him. It took every ounce of self control he had to turn and walk out of the room. 

That night, the shell brought him another impassioned rant about himself. 

“I don’t even know why he bothers to come up with the lies anymore. Should I be insulted that he thinks they’re working? I mean it’s not like I’ve given him any indication that I suspect anything, but still! It’s the principle of the thing. He shouldn’t just waltz into my office any time he wants, flash that stupidly handsome grin at me, and use me as his personal researcher. But have I said that to him? Of course not!” 

Oliver grinned, keeping the shell pressed to his ear as he checked and double checked his equipment and lightly ran his hand across the top of his quiver, quickly counting his arrows. 

She called him handsome. 

“And do I bring up my thoughts with him? Of course not, because asking ‘Hey Oliver, are you The Hood?’ in the middle of my workplace is a great idea. If I’m wrong, I just look like an idiot, but if I’m right I might be looking at his arrow sooner than I’d like. Not that I ever want to look at his arrow... that came out wrong. Ugh.” 

There was a loud thump that echoed through the shell, as if Felicity had slammed a door shut. Not that Oliver was really listening anymore. She knew. Well, suspected. 

Shit. 

Neither party addressed the elephant in the room, but Oliver’s lies continued to worsen and Felicity stopped pretending to believe them, just getting him the information he asked for and watching him with a speculative gleam in her eye. 

Then his own mother shot him. 

It was his fault, truly. His mother was never a wallflower, was never one to be intimidated. He really should have expected something to go wrong. As he started stumbling on his landings, and his breath started to come in shorter and shorter gasps, he realized he was headed towards the Queen Consolidated building. 

Through sheer willpower and a good dose of luck, he managed to get into the parking lot unseen and find Felicity’s car and break in. He wasn’t sure if he managed to pick the lock or just damage it enough that it failed, but either way he was slowly fading out of consciousness in the small backseat of this Mini Cooper when a shot of adrenaline went through him as the locks all clicked open and the door to the driver's seat opened. 

Felicity. 

“I’m not going to hurt you Felicity.” 

“How do you know my name?” 

Because you kept me sane. “Because you know mine.” 

That was the beginning of the end for his self restraint. Felicity had listened to him, had trusted him, had saved him once again. He had asked her to join the team, and she’d accepted. She had walked out soon after, not at all intimidated by him, and in his efforts to show her the good they could do, she was almost killed. She took it all in stride, returning the next night and the next. 

Things changed in small ways. He relaxed in the lair, he smiled more often, he laughed at her jokes and her ramblings. Felicity had a way of brightening even the small and dark bunker. He no longer needed to listen to the shell to ground him; he had her voice in his ear each night, guiding him through his missions and to safety. 

John was the first one to notice, cornering him one night after patrols were finished. He waited while Oliver put everything away and changed into his civilian clothes, arms crossed and blocking the way out of the bunker. “So, what exactly is up with you and Felicity?” 

“What? Nothing. We’re friends.” Oliver forced his voice to remain level, even as his stomach flipped. If John noticed how he was drawn to Felicity like a moth to flame, had Felicity?

“Really? Because I have many friends - probably more than you - and I don’t look at any of them like they make the sun rise and set.” 

Oliver just shrugged, grabbing his bag on his way towards John. “No idea what you’re talking about.” No need to be truthful - it’s not like he planned on doing anything. 

“Mhmm. Well I like her - she doesn’t put up with any of your shit. Whatever you are thinking, don’t fuck it up.” 

Oliver didn’t answer. What could he say? That the reason he was so relaxed around Felicity was because he associated her voice with safety? That he delighted in talking with Felicity because even after five years of hearing her voice there was so much about her he didn’t know? That something had shifted, had become less about her voice and more about the amazing woman as a whole? 

At some point the ever present fear had changed from losing the voice, to losing her. 

~OQFS~

People around him wound up dead. He had killed Tommy’s father, had been too late to save his best friend, his mission had failed. He should leave. He had his bag packed, his few precious possessions tucked away. He had made arrangements for John and Felicity to be taken care of, for Thea. He needed to leave before someone else got hurt. 

And yet he stood silently outside of Felicity’s apartment, simultaneously wanting to be close to her and wanting to run far away from what he was feeling. His indecisiveness immobilized him, a war inside his mind. His choice was made for him when the door opened and a small hand dragged him inside a warmly lit apartment. 

“Were you ever going to knock, or were you going to wait for my neighbors to call the cops?” She shoved him towards her couch, flitting around the kitchen for a moment and returning with a small cup of coffee that she put into his hands, grabbing his bag and setting it gently down by the door. She sat down on her couch, glancing up at him. “Sit down Oliver. Talk to me. You haven’t answered my calls or texts in days.” 

He sat, cradling his cup in his hands, trying to focus on the warmth rather than how raw he felt. He didn’t know what to say. 

“Oliver.”

He looked around, avoiding those blue eyes he knew would be staring at him, always so patient. He took in Felicity’s apartment, small and cozy. A few pictures lined the walls, small knick knacks arranged carefully on a small bookshelf: a menorah, a small medal, a green conch shell, a stack of coding books he assumed were from college, a small snowglobe containing the Las Vegas strip - 

Wait. 

Oliver blinked in confusion, staring at the conch shell identical to his in all but color. And the color of this shell was so close to the green of his suit. 

He only realized he had moved from the couch to the shelf when he saw his shaking hand reach out to gently touch the shell, running his fingers over the soft bumps in awe. Was this the link? Was this how he heard Felicity? 

“Oliver?” She sounded worried, and he could only imagine how he looked to her, having not said a word. 

“When did you get this?” His voice was scratchy from disuse. He gently picked the shell up and held it cupped in his hands as he turned to look at Felicity. 

She looked concerned, moving towards him slowly as if in fear of spooking him. “My mom took me to the beach before I went to M.I.T. I found the shell on the beach. I kept it as a memory and it became my rubber duck.” 

“Rubber duck?” 

She blushed, nervously smoothing out her shirt. “It’s from a book, originally. When software engineers or other coders are stuck, they explain their coding to a rubber duck line by line until they find the issue. I used the shell during college, talking through problems when no one was around to listen.” A small smile pulled at her lips, “The shell never complained about my inability to stop talking.”

Oliver remembered those nights when Felicity would get increasingly frustrated as she worked through some program or another, talking in a language he’d never heard, often going over a section again and again until she would shout triumphantly and fall silent. He never knew exactly what she was doing, until now. 

Making the decision in an instant, he held the shell out to her and strode over to his bag, ignoring her confusion. He had to do this now before he lost his will. He grabbed his shell and turned, holding it in his hands. “Felicity, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What?” She looked nervous, knuckles white as she clutched the green shell. 

“When I was away, that first year on the island... I found this.” He held out the shell for her to see, and watched as she looked between the shell in her hand and the one in his. They weren’t just similar, they were identical. “But it wasn’t just a shell. I could... I could hear someone talking when I held it up to my ear.” 

“Oliver, what are you say-”

“I could hear you Felicity.” 

~OQFS~

Felicity stared at Oliver, trying to think of something to say. Had the stress finally gotten to him? He heard her? “Oliver, I don’t understand. What do you mean you ‘heard’ me?” 

He gestured towards the shell in her hands. “I couldn’t figure it out for so long. What were you talking to, why? But that shell. When you talked to the shell, I could hear it. For five years, it was your voice that reminded me that I was still a human being. It grounded me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now but I... I didn’t know how to explain it. Even now you’re looking at me like I’m insane.”

“You have to admit it doesn’t sound exactly plausible.”

“I can prove it. I know about the virus you created. I know about Cooper.” 

It was only his lightning fast reflexes that saved the green shell as it slipped through Felicity’s numb fingers. That was impossible, there was no way he would have known anything about that. Maybe about Cooper, depending on his background checks, but the virus? Only three people knew about that and one of them was dead. 

She stared at him as she tried to figure out any other explanation. Anything other than, what, magic seashells? “I don’t, you couldn’t, this isn’t possible...” 

Oliver gently grabbed her wrist and led her over to her couch, sitting down beside her and setting both the shells in front of them. “I know it sounds impossible, but it’s true, I swear.” 

“No, I...I believe you. There’s no other way you could have known about that.” Suddenly, she realized all that Oliver could’ve overheard and she groaned, burying her head in her hands in an effort to hide the blush that erupted. 

“What, what’s wrong?”

“I just- realizing the things you probably heard. Considering if it’s possible for someone to die of embarrassment.” 

Felicity felt a warm hand grab her wrist again and gently tug it away from her face. Oliver held her small hand between his two, looking at her intently. “I’m sorry about invading your privacy. I never- I never thought I’d meet you. And yes, I learned a lot about you, but it was your voice more than what you were actually saying. In just the past few months since you joined the team, I’ve learned so much more about who you are as a person, your strength, your unstoppable intellect. I got to know you and you are so much more than your voice.” 

The blush didn’t improve - if anything, it deepened - but Felicity felt a bit better. “Would you have ever told me? If you hadn’t seen my shell?” She reached out and gently picked up the red shell, running her hand over the bumps and cracks. 

Oliver watched her, something in his chest cracking open as these two parts of his light were connected. The chances of this all being a coincidence... it wasn’t possible. Oliver wasn’t sure he believed in soulmates or fate, but something made this happen. The same something that gave him the luck to live through his hell, the same something the brought Felicity to Starling City, the same something that put the shells in both their paths. “It was inevitable, I think.” 

He leaned forward, gently turning her face towards him and stopping a few centimeters from her lips. A soft gasp and then she leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his. 

A few hours later, the apartment was dark and quiet, the living room empty except for two shells sitting side by side.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! I could be persuaded to write a follow up.
> 
> Come yell at me on social media:  
> Twitter: @sammy55431  
> Tumblr: sammy431


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